


Cosa Nostra

by Krimson_Kumiho



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Italian Mafia, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:53:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krimson_Kumiho/pseuds/Krimson_Kumiho
Summary: On the eve of World Nations Day 2017, the body of Raivis Galante; the Republic of Latvia, was discovered in the capital city of Riga. With clear signs of foul play, the panic that surrounded the discovery spread to every country across the globe.There had been no warning signs. No war. No apparent reason other than cold blood.Every Nation gathered to the World Meeting Room to assess the situation; working together, for once, to try and find a culprit...but with no evidence to point them in a vague direction, they were forced to give up.Two weeks later, Eduard von Bock; the Republic of Estonia, was also murdered. Fear settled in among the Nations.Who would fall next? Who was doing this? Why were they doing this?Yet the answer they so desperately sought was far closer to home than they could've imagined.





	Cosa Nostra

**Date: ** November 27th, 2017  
**Time: ** 05:43  
**Location: ** Antonio's Estate, Madrid.  
Dawn was far closer than he was accustomed to by the time Antonio Fernandez Carriedo; known commonly to the world as the _Kingdom of Spain_, stepped out from his car and took a breath of the cold night air. The satchel he carried was slung lazily over his shoulder and he locked the vehicle before making his way across the tarmac towards his estate.  
The light in his study was still on, as he'd left it yesterday evening, and he paused to try and spot any movement from his driveway. Given the stillness and silence of the house, anyone would be smart to assume it was empty. Of course the Spaniard knew better, unlocking the door and slipping in quietly. He set the bag down to unlace his boots and left them by the door, heading upstairs. His room was the first to the left of the staircase, the study first to the right and then Lovino's old room to the left after his own. He paused by the study door, eyeing the old room with a fond smile before stepping inside and glancing around.  
It was, in fact, empty. That came as a surprise.  
"He must still be working." The Spaniard mused aloud, crossing to his desk and dropping into the chair with a heavy sigh, the chair creaking under the sudden weight.  
Antonio felt like his bones would do the same after such a long day and so he took a moment to enjoy being in his own home before he reached into the bag by his feet, pulling a file free and re-reading the name on the front.  
"Lo siento." He breathed, opening it and spreading the few papers it contained out across his desk. Various photographs, detailed routine notes and a whole assortment of other documents lay before him awaiting finalization and so Antonio set to work; picking key details from the contents as he wrote up his report of the day. He stopped twice; once to abandon his work and smoke, pushing the study window open wide enough to lean out of and watch the coming dawn, and then again to retrieve his bottle of Ron Aldea Anniversario 75 from the liquor cabinet in the hall.  
The sun had long since started creeping over the horizon by the time Antonio sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, the report signed and ready for handing in.  
It was almost 8am, by the clock on the mantle at least and Lovino had still not come home. Antonio didn't spare it much thought, assuming that he'd slept at the office. It wouldn't be the first time.  
He yawned loudly before looking over to the two thirds full bottle of rum on his desk and screwing the cap back on, standing up and leaving the study to put it away.  
When his phone began singing loudly from his coat pocket, with the same annoying tone that it had been for almost two decades, Antonio returned to the study and eyed the garment for a moment before resigning himself to take the call. He hit answer without looking at the caller ID, his voice sounding out hoarse after hours of silence, his mind slowly focusing in on the sound of shaking breaths that indicated crying.  
"Si?"  
_"T-Toni?" _  
The Spaniards blood ran cold upon hearing the familiar voice, his grip on the phone tightening as he cleared his throat and answered hesitantly.  
"...Gil?"  
The name left a bitter taste on his tongue as the very uttering of it seemed to send the Prussian into hysterics. Listening closely, he heard sirens in the background alongside meaningless chatter that was easily distinguished as body identification. Somewhere, not far from where Gilbert was standing, camera's clicked away. All tell-tale signs of a CSI unit...He'd heard it all before, when the first body had been found.  
Antonio's heart sank and he bit his lip, wishing he'd let the phone go to voicemail. "Another one?"  
Gilbert didn't answer at first, but the slight rustle of clothing close to his ear told Toni that he'd nodded. He waited, staring at the file on his desk.  
_"It's...mein gott...it's **her.** Antonio, it's Eliza. She's-"_ Gilbert cut himself off with a muffled sob, a hand silencing the sound. Antonio took a breath, his grip on the edge of the desk so strong it turned his knuckles white.  
"Si...I..." He began, trailing off at the sound of his friend's quieted sobbing. His eyes never left the name on the file.  
_He felt sick._  
"Lo siento...Gilbert." He said and he meant it. _Truly._  
But he couldn't change anything. What was done was done.

**\- Seven Hours Earlier -**  
**Time:** 00:06  
**Location:** Millenáris Park, Budapest  
The stillness and silence of the night was broken by footsteps. Antonio had come close to dozing, exhausted after the lengthy day and warm despite the chilly evening breeze. He checked his watch with a frown before shifting in his seat, getting a little more comfortable as the footfalls grew ever closer.  
They came from boots. Heeled and sturdy but the weight of them suggested the wearer was male. Toni rolled his eyes, waiting until a gentle hum met his ears. The tone was too familiar to be overlooked and the tune was obnoxiously cheerful. The Spaniard lifted his head and cleared his throat.  
"Tch. You're late."  
"Fashionably so, mon ami."  
To that, Antonio had to give a dry chuckle. Francis Bonnefoy, officially known as the _French Republic_, rounded the corner with a lazy wave in Antonio's direction. True to his word, the Frenchman wore a deep blue shirt with a waistcoat over the top, dark grey in colour and yet beautifully embroidered. It was an eye catching pattern even in the dim light, a red scarf presently wrapped around his throat. Francis glanced to his left and then his right before he crossed the road and closed the distance between the two of them and dropped onto the bench beside Antonio.  
The Spaniard fixed the bag by his foot with a momentary glare before nudging it towards the other.  
"Everything present?" Francis asked, reaching a hand into his pocket to retrieve his packet of cigarettes. He offered the box to Antonio first, un-surprised when the elder man practically snatched it and took one. Francis watched him light it up and take a deep drag; breathing a cloud of blue-grey smoke into the chill night air, before he gave a heavy sigh and handed the box back.  
"Besides the file? Si... _It's done._ Everything is there."  
Francis nodded, reaching down to pick up the bag and throw the strap over his shoulder. He stood in unison with Toni, falling into step with him as they left the bench and began off into the night.  
"Was it painful?" He asked, hesitantly. Antonio ran a hand through his hair, swallowing the bile in his throat.  
"For Gil's sake, and hers...I hope it wasn't."

**\- 2 Hours and 20 Minutes Earlier -**  
** Date: ** November 26th, 2017  
**Time: ** 21:20  
**Location: ** Fleurt Virágküldés, Budapest.  
It wasn't a surprise to Antonio that the lights were still on when he drove past. Liz's little flower shop closed at precisely 6PM each day, but then she would almost always stay late into the evening to ensure that every flowerbed in the garden out back had been carefully pruned and watered before taking her time to prepare the floral arrangements for the following day. And that didn't include the orders she had to finish for next day delivery. Yet, as much work as her quaint little shop needed to continue the successful business she made, Liz absolutely loved it. It broke up the monotony of running a nation, and most had followed in suit; picking up odd little jobs here and there to get a feel for normality.  
Though Antonio could hardly call his job _Normal. _  
He parked his car two blocks away from the shop and rest his head back for a moment, taking a deep breath. He thought back to Gabriel's message earlier, asking if he was free to drink before work. Honestly, in his line of work, it was an awful idea to drink before a job. You needed a clear head at the very least, and even without the addition of alcohol, Antonio's head was all over the place.  
It was almost December and that meant he had to start preparing for Constitution Day on the 6th, which his Boss had already been through with him several times. Truth be told, he'd only listened the first time they went through the meeting rundown but he knew the routine well enough after 41 years of the same thing each time. Following that, Dia de la Inmaculada Concepcion was on the 8th, and there was a lot of festival-style preparation to go into that too.  
Politics aside, a drink didn't seem like such a bad idea now. A short walk around the block and Antonio settled himself into position; comfortably concealed in the late night shadows, where he double checked his watch. He had about ten minutes before any CCTV cameras in the vicinity would come back online, providing his calculations were accurate. Using what little time he had left, Toni screwed the silencer onto the barrel and did some final checks before the light in the back room of Fleurt Virágküldés went out. Not two minutes later, Elizabeta Héderváry; known in the modern world as _Hungary_, stepped out of her flower shop and turned to lock the door. Antonio bit his lip and took a deep breath, steadying his arm and peering down the scope. The sight focused in on Liz's soft brunette hair, the tremble in his arm easing as the situation settled into Antonio's heart and he closed his eyes for just a moment, mentally stepping back.  
Professional detachment was something Antonio had gotten good at after centuries of war...after war..._after war._ Eventually, every nation learnt the hard way that it was a necessity in their roles. Antonio opened his eyes again and curled his finger over the trigger. He moved seamlessly, following Elizabeta's footsteps in one fluid motion until she paused to check her bag. "Lo siento...pero _un trabajo es un trabajo.___" He breathed, pulling the trigger.  
No ear-splitting crack followed, merely a faint whistle. The gun jolted in his hands, a sudden recoil that the Spaniard had grown accustomed to over the years. He didn't watch as Elizabeta's body jerked violently to the right, the bullet cutting cleanly through her left temple and then out again through her right. It wasn't until he heard the definite thud of her body hitting the floor that he moved, first stooping down to pick up the discarded cartridge casing and then packing the short barrelled rifle away carefully into his bag. Pulling his hood up, Antonio stepped out into the dimly lit street and made his way towards the shop, his eyes scanning the street and nearby buildings for any civilians. He passed the body without even glancing her way, closing in on the alleyway that ran between the florist and the chemist next door. He stilled, his eyes narrowing as he checked the walls until he found it. An impact fracture in the stonework, spotted here and there with blood. The Spaniard walked towards it, pulling a single latex glove from the pocket of his jeans; reserved for this task alone. He put it on and carefully pried the bullet from the wall, turning the round this way and that before giving a heavy sigh. He knelt beside his bag, unzipping it with his free hand and fishing a small zip-lock bag from the internal side pocket. Once open, Toni dropped the bullet inside and zipped it, dropping it back in along with the glove, turned inside out with practiced caution. Evidence collected and the target dealt with, Antonio had only one thing left to do and it was by far his least favourite part of these jobs. He returned to Liz's body, looking at it for the first time and feeling the bile rise in his throat. Her green eyes were wide, the shock of her death written plain as day across the features of her face. He pulled a flip phone from the back pocket of his jeans and took one single photo of the scene, as requested.  
He debated closing her eyes, if only to avoid the dead stare she was left with but..."Leave no trace." Antonio murmured, turning away from the scene and making a swift exit from the area. He checked his watch once he'd reached his car, somewhat pleased to see that the hit had taken less than two minutes to complete, collection included, from Elizabeta leaving the shop. The CCTV would be back on in five minutes but by then, Antonio would be a good mile or so away, driving over the Széchenyi Chain Bridge on his route to Millenáris Park.

**\- 7 Hours Earlier - **  
**Time: ** 14:20  
**Location: ** Hilltop Celleno, Lazio  
To an untrained eye, the abandoned outpost in the Province of Viterbo had not changed in the 60 odd years that it had been left decaying for. Its once sturdy walls still appeared ready to come crumbling down while the hills around it remained ever silent.  
However, the peaceful facade was precisely that; and a well-hidden one, after so many years. Antonio parked his car in the Tonizza Nemo supermarket's parking lot out back and walked up towards the old outpost. He paused by a steadily growing group of tourists, walking slowly but chatting quickly; about their destinations, their plans for after...all meaningless nonsense. It was a short walk up and an even shorter walk round to the back of the old building, where a rickety old door hid one of the best kept secrets Italy, or rather, Romano had to offer. Carefully twisting the doorknob and pulling the door free, Antonio ducked into the stuffy old hallway and made sure to secure the door behind him before making his way to the stairwell. Heading up and down the hall, the hum of computers and the buzz of workplace chatter caught his ears.  
He spied his younger brother up ahead and waved lazily in his direction before making a beeline for the boss' office. If you could call it that. The lack of a door destroyed any hope for private discussions almost as soon as they'd set up here, but in this line of work not even the boss kept secrets. So Antonio waltzed right on in, flashing the young man sat at the desk a bright grin. It was returned with a sour expression. "Your siesta ran over you bastard."  
The Spaniard laughed heartily with a nod, not bothering to apologize for his error. "Si, si, I know. Gabriel said the new list came in not long after I left. How many do we have?"  
With a shake of his head and a deep set frown, Lovino Vargas; _Southern Italy_ to the world, reached for the top draw of his desk, yanking it open and pulling out two files. He handed them both to Antonio with a disinterested air. "Just those two. One was requested specifically for today, but the other needs to wait until the end of the week. Take your pick and give the leftover to..." Lovi paused a moment to think before he shrugged. "Give it to the pervert. Whoever does the first one, I expect a report by tomorrow morning...that's all, now get out." He dismissed Antonio with a wave of his hand and returned his eyes to the laptop he was currently typing away on. Toni hovered a moment before bowing slightly and turning to leave, glancing over the top file.  
_Arthur Kirkland._  
He stilled mid step and felt the smile tugging at his lips before he could stop it. Finally, he could put an end to that posh speaking cabrón. It would be easy...too easy...  
And that's why he dropped the file on Francis' desk as he walked over to his own. The Frenchman fixed the file with a curious brow before looking up to Antonio, frowning. The Spaniard nodded and dropped into the chair next to his own desk, opening up the folder without reading the front page. His eyes narrowed upon reading the name and at once, he knew he'd made the right choice. He'd take a little too much enjoyment in killing Arthur, and as soon as he caved to the attraction that murder had, the sooner he'd become a monster. So when Francis began reading through his own file, with a definite air of sadness about his expression, Antonio did the same. Elizabeta's smiling face sat in his peripheral, pinned to the top left hand side of the page, reminding him slowly and surely of what he'd just agreed to do.  
Would she forgive him if she knew?  
Would _Gilbert_ ever forgive him if he did it?  
They weren't questions that needed an answer at that present moment. Antonio had a job to do and he needed the correct equipment. Fortunately, that was where Lovino stepped in. With countless Mafia gangs rising up in the ranks, getting weapons anywhere in Italy was a piece of cake. He paused before he left, to read over the termination order document again.  
This one would be tough but...well.

**Un trabajo es un trabajo. **

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a complete re-telling of an old Hetalia fan story I wrote back in 2012, under the name 'Pizza and Pasta'.  
Though the idea had potential, the chapter lengths were pathetic and I had no concept of how to build suspense. I rushed through everything, excited to finish it quickly, and to be completely honest I'm glad I didn't.  
But the recent rise in Hetalia's popularity got me thinking about the 'Good Old Days' and, in doing so, I figured it might be fun (and wouldn't hurt) to try it again.Properly this time.
> 
> As a side note, I'd like to dedicate this to someone. A very good friend of mine, whom I have sadly not been in contact with for some time. She's an amazing person and was the sole reason I wrote this story back then in the first place.  
The OG Italy to my Romano.  
Fratello, if you ever read this, I hope you're doing well x


End file.
